


tricks for tricks

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Introspection, M/M, Magic, Sex Toys, hedge witch AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: He just needs a few good spells and if Aaravos is offering, how can he say no to that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's a hedge witch au which is a concept i co opted from the magicians. heres the very simple explainer: magicians get formal training and ready and easy access to resources and a support network usually by professional academia and hedge witches usually get kicked out early or never accepted into those space and they're essentially forced to relay on their own ability to find any kind of training. and yes in magicians canon some of them sleep with magicians for spells
> 
> here's an even simpler explainer: this is basically a prostitution au but for magic instead of money 
> 
> why didn't i just lead with that? 
> 
> not beta'd

He hovers in the alleyway, watching people filter in and out of the office building.  
  
It's not classy, it's not respectable, it's not well thought out, but nothing he's done recently has been. So he waits in the alley like a moron in his son's borrowed hoodie trying his hardest to look nonchalant. Failing. Failing miserably, but trying. And really, the willingness to try is half the battle.  
  
He makes eyes at a few of them. Viren could always pick them out of a crowd, it's just the way proper magicians walk. Like they have their whole lives ahead of them. But if they even notice him, they don't give him anything more then a concerned look up and down. One of them actually gives him a pity nod.  
  
He doesn't want people like that.  
  
So what if he got technically speaking exiled.  
  
He's not a child- not some homeless kid begging for scraps at the corner. And he's not some drugged up wino shaking in a back alley.  
  
He's a desperate idiot standing in front of an alley begging for scraps and shaking a little bit.  
  
It's obviously very different.  
  
He sees one of the ones who gave him some spells two weeks ago smoking by the bike rack, a man older then even he was, with a wedding ring he didn't bother to take off and shoes that cost more then Viren's current apartment.  
  
They make eye contact for a second and Viren makes a point to look as bored as possible just as a woman hooks her arm around the man's. At least the guy throws him a shrug while he chucks his cigarette underfoot.  
  
“Excuse me.” He doesn't jump even if the voice startles him. He doesn't jump a lot even if the voice startles him.  
  
He's young, or young looking at least. Dozens of freckles. It's more noticeable than anything else really. The longer he looks at him, the more he finds he likes, however. Broad shoulders, pretty eyes, long hair.  There's certainly something to be said about the look the magician gives him.  
  
“Selling?” He says in a way that he hopes reads as casual. In a way that he hopes doesn't give away the tremors.  
  
“Depends on what's for offer.”  
  
“Want me to do a spin?”  That gets him smiling, and oh that's nice too.  
  
“If that's on the table, I don't see why not.”  
  
And there's something to be said for the voice too.  
  
Viren makes a face because it's part of the game because he's not supposed to play along, not really, but he spins in a small circle, careful with his knee. The man looks him up and down slowly nods.  
  
“I-” Viren clears his throat. “Yes- I don't want amateur tricks.”  
  
An arc of the brow- unlike the last one it doesn't seem dismissive.  
  
“And what constitutes an amateur trick?”  
  
“Lights from your fingers? Fire- water- low-level illusions? I know how to do that. I need luck spells, strong ones-” A quirk of the lips now, and for a moment Viren thinks he's about to be told off again or called an idiot.  
  
“I know a few.” He says instead.  
  
“Want me here then?” Because he's desperate. And stupid.  
  
“I can rent a room.” He offers him a hand.  
  
He's dressed in a suit, and Viren is in a hoodie and some years old slacks. They look ridiculous standing next to each other. And he's taller then Viren is.  
  
“Going to kill me?” He asks.  
  
“I wasn't planning on it. I am amenable though.”  
  
“Why should I trust you? To go somewhere with you?”  
  
“You shouldn't.” At least he's honest. “Yes or no?”  
  
Viren takes his hand, obviously.  
  
It's not like he's swimming in options at the moment.

  
  
…

  
  
They're in a hotel, not a motel, and for the first time, he feels certain this might be the best thing that has happened to him since his exile.  
  
They don't shower together, which is fine. But his client, for want of a better association, is laying on the bed with a towel around his hips by the time Viren gets out of the shower. The water pressure was to die for and for all of the discomfort of getting himself prepared in the shower, the shakes are already gone. Just knowing that he’s going to get anything fills him just as good as his fingers do.  
  
“Should I call you something?”  
  
He looks up from his phone, giving Viren the once over. He spins his figure and with a look of only mild irritation does Viren do another spin for him.  
  
“Aaravos.”  
  
There's a joke he can make about it being a mouthful, but he's pretty sure he's about to be intimately acquainted with the concept pretty soon anyway.  
  
“Viren.”  
  
Aaravos sits up and sets his phone on the nightstand.  
  
“Anything I should know?”  
  
“My knee is fucked.” He says and crosses the rest of the distance, bad leg intentionally bumping against the magician's ankle. “My gag reflex exists.”  
  
He smiles again and spreads his legs until Viren gets the idea and lowers down between them.  
  
“Anything I should know?” He shoots the question back as Aaravos pulls the towel off of his waist. Pretty and proportional. What more could someone like him ask for?  
  
“I don't enjoy bondage.” He says, and Viren halts for a moment. “On me.”  
  
“Is that going to enter into what we're doing?” He stares up at the magician who leans back and pulls a pillow off of the bed and hands it to Viren.  
  
“No. But you asked. For your knee.” It takes him a second to recognize that he means the pillow and not the non-sequitur kink negotiation. “In the off chance, this warrants a repeat performance.”  
   
Viren's been so comedically caught up in the now he didn't even dream of this becoming a regular thing. But then they haven't fucked yet. And Aaravos hasn't delivered yet.  
  
“Show me something first.”  
  
Aaravos sighs, almost put out by it before Viren watches the edges of his fingers spark as he draws the sigil in the air and whispers the words of the spell. The bowl of sunflower seeds on the table rattle and spontaneously burst forth into a massive pile of sunflowers tumbling to the floor and taking his phone with them.

He’s pretty sure they weren’t raw.  
  
“Say please next time.” It takes him an incredible amount of skill to look away from the flowers, with full stems and full leaves, full of seeds, and to look back at the man's nice cock.  
  
“Please.” He says and opens his mouth to lick the head of it.  
  
He keeps his hair fairly short, but by the time he's got it in his mouth, Aaravos has managed to get a grip on it anyway, tugging him closer. It made Viren's eyes water. Apparently going slow isn't an option. Which, typical. That's just what magicians are like. No patience.  
  
Aaravos smells like hotel soap and heat. The magician keeps pulling him closer and closer to his groin, and ever few bobs of the head had Viren near gagging. It's- proportional was the right word for it, certainly. Then sensation of it sliding down his throat gets to his head faster then he thought it would.  
  
The weight of him on Viren's tongue is more enjoyable than he's pretty sure it's ever been.  
  
So that's nice.  
  
By the time Aaravos comes, silent the entire time, he's hard, straining against his briefs and his slacks. He doesn't swallow, just holds it in his mouth and waits for any semblance of a direction. Aaravos smiles at him and pushes a thumb into his mouth, pressing his tongue flat and smearing his come across Viren's mouth.  
  
“You can spit it out.” He finally says, dragging his fingers on the side of the bed. Viren gets up and does as he's told.   
  
“Your turn.” Viren washes his mouth out by the sink.  
  
“Suppose it is.” He pats the side of the bed next to him, and when Viren sits down, Aaravos' fingers light up. The sigil is intricate, a vague purple hue in the dimmer hotel room lighting. Viren rushes to grab the complimentary pens and paper and draw it down. It's a little degrading, and he feels the pain in his leg in his hurry, but Aaravos holds it for him until he's gotten it written down.  
  
“What's it do?”  
  
“Shows true intent.” The sigil fizzles out, and the latent magic that hangs in the air makes him dizzy. “No matter who you point it at.”  
  
That's- shockingly decent for a blow job. And just sitting in bed and letting his residual energy soak into Viren's skin only gets him harder. They glance down at the same time, and he's staining his clothes.  
  
“How do you want me?”  
  
“Ride me.” The magician says. Viren straddles him before Aaravos shakes his head. “Looking away.”  
  
“R-right.” It doesn't hurt his feelings as much as its needlessly degrading but sure.  
  
He opened himself in the shower, a quick rushes affair that was only really intended to serve a purpose but now he's almost curious what would have happened if he didn't. Would the magician even bother stretching Viren or would he have just taken him as he was?  
  
Despite his common sense, he's almost curious as to how that would feel.  
  
Well, maybe next time.  
  
He sets his open palms on Aaravos' stomach rocks his hips against a slowly hardening cock.  
  
“What do you need luck spells for?” It's accompanied by two fingers being unceremoniously shoved into him, and Viren would have probably fallen off of the bed if his balance wasn't shifted back.  
  
At least Aaravos found the lube.  
  
“Going to rob a bank.” He says, feeling those fingers reach in as deep as he can possibly accommodate.  
  
“People do that with guns, usually.”  
  
“Not that kind of bank.”  
  
Bank, royal stores, what's the difference really.  
  
“Huh.” Viren's toes curl when Aaravos nudges the bundle of nerves inside of him. “Why?”  
  
“College is expensive.”  
  
“Children?” Viren's not so much interested in answering so instead he blindly feels around for the base of Aaravos' cock and rolls his palm up and down the sensitive flesh. He gives the magician a squeeze and Aaravos makes a pleased sound. “Get on.”  
  
“Then-” The fingers in him are gone, and Viren rises up slowly.  
  
“At your leisure.” Aaravos sits up, his chest against Viren's back, hot. Very hot. His hands curl around Viren's thighs, and he realizes with some delay that Aaravos could probably lift him up and as hot as it is to think about he's a little distracted with Aaravos' cock nudging him.  
  
“Fuck-” He hisses out, and he can feel a grin against his skin. Aaravos presses one kiss to his back and rather unceremoniously lowers him with significantly less kindness. “Fu-”  
  
It's silenced by fingers in his mouth.  
  
“Go on.” He says, and Viren tries to sigh with the feeling as he adjusts his legs under him slowly and starts moving. “That's it.”  
  
Viren moves his hips slowly- that's the key here really- don't rush. They hate when it's over quick. Everything has to be drawn out- a whole affair in just a few moments.  
  
His own cock hangs in the air, jerking with every movement, dripping on the sheets between both of their legs. Aaravos' chin digs into Viren's shoulder, and he can feel him staring.  
  
He starts moving more earnestly once he's sure his legs won't give in.  
  
“Good?” He asks at some point- voice a little embarrassingly high.  
  
“Very.” The praise makes all of him twitch with need. “Pay attention.”  
  
“Wha-” He doesn't even manage to get the word out before Aaravos' hands are in front of him, where they used to be wrapped around his midsection, sparking with energy again, pale gray this time. He wants to stop- wants to grab his notepad again- wants to stop and tell him that this is an insult to whatever bullshit institution gave him his degree- stop him and tell him that he's getting embarrassingly close and the residual magic is absolutely going to make him come untouched-  
  
Instead, he watches, enraptured at the careful intricate hand motions forming the sigil.  
  
“For sleep.” He whispers right into Viren's ear, and god as if the magic wasn't enough. “Strong enough to level a city block.”  
  
Viren leans his head back into Aaravos' shoulder because just looking at very dangerous, very illegal, very powerful magic like that is enough to get him to spill like a love stuck virgin. Aaravos' fingers dig into his thighs while he comes inside of him.  
  
Viren was right, obviously, the residual magic was so-  
  
This was just one step below a marriage proposal, as far as he's concerned.  
  
“And-” He gasps out. Neither of them can do much of anything, just panting against each other in the afterglow, “And if I want something scarier?”  
  
“We might have to have a repeat performance after all.” He gets off of him slowly- his knees still pop- and stretches slowly. “Bend over.” He says, and Viren does because anything resembling pride was flung out the window as soon as he found out exactly how strong the magician was.  
  
Viren can feel him staring as his come leaks out of him slowly.  
  
“Mind if I shower?” He asks after a while.  
  
He's back on his phone when Viren turns around, just in time to see a nod.  
  
The water feels good against his more sore muscles. He stays in long enough to fog the mirrors. His fingers glow the same gray- only a little less vibrant- as he paints the second sigil in the air.  
  
“So talented for a witch.” Viren looks at him from the corner of his eyes. “You weren't always.”  
  
“I just know what to ask for.” His own magic isn't nearly as dizzying. That doesn't mean he can't still chase his own high.  
  
“Of course. I put your number in my phone. I'll call you.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Viren says, like an idiot. “If you have any actual luck spells, that would be fantastic.”  
  
“Oh- that is what you wanted isn't it-” He smiles as if he's being clever. He crosses the rest of the way until his still sweaty body presses against Viren's clean back. “Can you get ritual ingredients?”  
  
“You know I can't.”  
  
“Right- of course, little witch.” He says it like it's funny. As if that hasn't been thrown in Viren's face countless upon countless of times. “I'll bring some with me next time.”  
  
Oh, but it is exceptionally easy to forgive him.  
  
Especially when he whispers sweet words like that right in Viren's ear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> local elf continues to be hot: more at 11

“I googled you.”  
  
“Ah.” The magician holds the door for him, still reading his phone as Viren steps into the suite. “Anything interesting?”  
  
Viren shrugs tries to play at nonchalant and tries to forget the four hours of his life he wasted last night when he first got the text from a number he didn't know.  
  
A cursory google search had given him nothing.  
  
Viren leaned back in his uncomfortable chair and stared at his screen. It could have been a fake name, but why would anyone pick a fake name like that? Even if he was a magician, there's really so little need for names like that in this day and age. He was so ready with it- so he must use it a lot. At least some sense of familiarity.  
  
He sighed, clicked through a few different pages- the only hit he got is an old Arabic poem that no one had a decent translation on. Now if it is a fake name, the fake name makes sense. Usual pretentious better then thou attitude.  
  
Claudia and Soren had both come home by then, and he only nods when Soren tell him they already ate with friends. Soren heads to the gym on the corner and Claudia sets up next to him to study.  
  
“How's your Arabic?” He asked, and she laughed.  
  
“I did Latin.” She reminds him as if he could forget. “Why?”  
  
He just waved her off.  
  
Now, he stares around the room- out the window mostly- and it's a hell of a view, there's no arguing that.  
  
“Not really.”  
  
He considered calling some old connections but decided against it in the end. It's not like he had criminal friends. And whoever Aaravos is is obviously criminal. Or at least with access to criminals. And he's sure Harrow thinks they're the same thing.  
  
“Mm.” Viren turns to look at him. Different well-tailored suit, big duffle bag at his side. Hair down. Viren looks like a disaster next to him. He tried to dress up, but it's not like he could afford the obviously designer wardrobe his new friend wore. “I was right.”  
  
“About?”  
  
“You weren't always.”  
  
“Looked me up then?” Aaravos doesn't answer, just sets the duffle bag down on the bed and sits down next to it, pushing his hair behind his ear.  The magician unzips the bag. With no pomp, no flourish, he pulls out a knife with one hand and a vibrator with the other. “Ah.”  
  
“What would you like to start with?”  
  
Viren swallows.  
  
“Dealers choice.”

  
…

  
  
Aaravos shows him how to make the ritual work a few times, with more patience then he expected.  
  
Granted Viren's not at his most attentive right now. Aaravos nudges the dildo in him with such a disinterest that Viren has to drop the notepad and grip the table. Aaravos doesn't sigh, doesn't do anything other than nudge the toy in him again.  
  
The ritual is only intricate in the details, like most obnoxious prim and proper magic is. The rim of the bowl has to be coated in his blood twice clockwise and once counterclockwise. The sigil has two glyphs that depend on the time of casting. The salt as has to be pressed into his wound, not rubbed. When he cuts his fingers open it has to be pinky first.  
  
Obnoxious details.  
  
Aaravos is convinced he has to memorize it, because of course he does, just to be safe. Viren has a suspicion that Aaravos only insisted on a perfect retelling of it because he knows Viren can't concentrate every time he presses the vibrator in deeper.  
  
He tries to keep his sound down to a minimum but every time a groan- of arousal or frustration, it doesn't seem to matter- slips out, the grin on the magician's face gets larger.  
  
Viren hasn't had this type of experience before. Usually, it was show up, bend over, here are some pages, never talk to them again. Aaravos seems more interested in- in what? Throwing his power around? What can he get the hedge witch to do before the hedge witch runs with his tail between his legs?  
  
Viren doesn't dislike it, surprising.  
  
He thought he would, at least partially. Thought he would be too interested in the magic to pay the game any mind, but it's- he gets humiliated on a near-daily basis. Why shouldn't he get to do it in a way he can get off to.  
  
He's been hard and leaking for a while, but just like the two other times he's dropped his paper, he pulls himself together, shakes his head a little bit and stares at Aaravos.  
  
“And?”  
  
Viren goes through the spell again, the words, slowly, clearly too slowly because Aaravos nudges the vibrator again and there's a sigh he can't catch. Viren talks and watches the magician lean back and pick up his phone, and a second later the setting changes and Viren's toes curl.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“What can't modern technology do.” He rolls his hips into the chair, trying to get the toy to nudge him in just the right spot when Aaravos reaches over and finally strokes his cock for him. “You didn't need to wait for me.”  
  
He wanted to.  
  
Mostly, he didn't want to come untouched again, and mostly he didn't want to seem more desperate then he already obviously was, but maybe he wanted to know what it would feel like when Aaravos actually got him off.  
  
His hand is soft, uncalloused, and curls around his cock in a way that makes Viren jolt up to meet him. The heat coils in his stomach in such a pleasant way he has to fight the urge to throw his head back.  
  
Viren comes with a barely concealed sound as the vibrations get stronger again.  
  
He shudders through his orgasm, the toy not settling in the slightest and Viren has to regrettably open his eyes again.  
  
“Fun.” He mumbles, over sensitivity slowly starting to settle in him.  
  
“Ask me to turn it off.”  
  
“Please.” He says, mouth tight. “Turn the dildo off.”  
  
“Don't suppose you could go again?”  
  
“Not naturally.”  
  
“Needy.” But the vibrations turn off, and his grip loosens, relaxing into the chair while Aaravos reaches between his legs and pulls the toy out of him. “You could ask for that too.”  
  
Viren pushes the chair back as he stands on shaky legs, knee creaking. He towards the bathroom, stretching his arms, shaking the tension out of his shoulders.  
  
Why give him the satisfaction?

  
…

  
They meet up again two weeks later.  
  
A day after Viren tried the spell and robbed a small branch of the royal stores the next town over.  
  
Well, robbery is really- it's not the word he would use. All he did was bump into the branch manager who apologized so vehemently that Viren just had to head up to her office, where her computer just happened to be unlocked because of an IT mess up. And he just happened to find three minutes alone and what happened during those three minutes was between him and the secret offshore account he had opened just a month before his exile.  
  
“Do we kiss?” He asks while the key card pops out of the slot on the wall and the door opens.  
  
“We haven't.” So he does kiss him, because it's not a no, really. Kisses him on the lips and pulls him into the room by his lapels. When he pulls away to breathe, Aaravos looks only slightly disheveled. “The spell worked then?”  
  
He kisses him again, just as hard until Aaravos bites down on his lip and Viren pulls away tasting pennies.  
  
“I want more.” He hisses, against the magician's lips, until there's blood enough between the two of them. “You wanted me to ask, I'm asking.”  
  
He can feel the smile against his lips.

"Trying to kill the king with it?"

Viren pulls away. It's not like he tried to hide himself all that much. He shouldn't be surprised Aaravos heard about what got him exiled in the first place.

"I never tried to kill him."

"Just let it almost happen."

"So did a lot of other people."

"And yet you're the one they all decided to blame."

"I'm very blameable." He shrugs. Weakly. No real conviction behind it. "You said-"

"I know." Aaravos leads him through the small hallway and onto the bed. Viren sits down because what else can he do, in the face of a magician. In the face of a competent strong magician. Well. There's still a sleep spell Aaravos taught him, but something tells Viren he might be faster on the draw. There's a hand on his shoulder, pressing him down flat on the mattress, and Viren goes. "Lets talk about that repeat performance."

Aaravos settles in his lap and any fear, any worry just drains out of him like there was never any room for it to begin with.

Viren smiles and sits up just enough to press another kiss into Aaravos' lips.

"Please."

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> .[ talk at me here](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/).
> 
> (has it been less then a week and am i already filled with aus? ye)


End file.
